


Always a Choice

by Ilzalith



Category: Naruto
Genre: Constructive Criticism Welcome, Gen, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8279480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilzalith/pseuds/Ilzalith
Summary: With the benefit of hindsight, I can say that death isn't that big of a deal.Birth, on the other hand? Birth in a world with chakra and demons and monkeys? Birth -life- is an entirely different beast.





	1. Birth, Grandmothers, and Chakra

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Catch Your Breath](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1893351) by [Liangnui](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liangnui/pseuds/Liangnui). 



In hindsight, death as an event is made out to be way more than it really is.

Mine was probably not a very large affair -closed casket, secular ceremony (I hope), most of my relatives (of varying closeness in life). I’m willing to admit that isn’t a lot, but I wasn’t very important when I was alive. I had a fair number of friends I wasn’t close to, was at best an average student, and didn’t interact with my neighbors outside of saying ‘ _hello_ ’ or ‘ _good morning_ ’ when socially required. In life I was nobody important, so of course my funeral would be small -or at least I think it would be.

Birth -life- was another beast entirely.

I was born on the fourteenth of January -screaming my tiny little lungs out, like most newly-personed fetuses. Part of that was for the obvious reasons -the new sights, sounds, feelings- but I know that there was something else. As it turns out, living one whole life in one world, and being then born in another world entirely means that the differences are really obvious. When you feel your insides burning as a child -your mind rejecting what your new body has- you can’t really avoid screaming.

At least, that’s what chakra did to me - it’s not like I can ask anyone about it.

It took an unknown amount of time for my brain to stop freaking out about the whole ‘ _there is a foreign thing moving inside me getitoutgetitoutgetitout_ ’ thing, and another few weeks for my mind -my ‘soul,’ I guess- to actually settle in. According to my mother, I spent the two months being extremely fussy, and then almost immediately stopped -I even consistently slept throughout the night. At first they thought I might be sick, now she thinks it was an early sign.

By the time I was well and truly myself, I was living with an elderly woman who I assumed was my grandmother. She would read books around me, in what I eventually realized was Japanese. I couldn’t understand anything she said beyond the most basic words, but I was probably in Japan (or maybe Korea -I was vaguely aware there had been something between those countries before I was born), and if I was lucky my parents were just very busy, and not dead.

Eventually (it might have been a week, it might have been a month -constant napping made it impossible to tell,) my mother came back -saying something about _‘Mamoru-kun’_ and _‘Kaa-chan’_. I wasn’t paying attention -I was far more interested in the metal plate on her forehead. It had an engraving that looked like an arrowhead with a spiral in the middle.

You could even argue that it looked like a _leaf._

I started to cry. For my mother, who would probably die before she was forty; for my father who might already be dead; for myself, because I was probably going to die in some disaster or another, no matter what I did. Apparently, that hurt my mother’s feelings, because she started tearing up too.

A while later, my father came back -with a bandana with an identical metal plate to Mom’s, and my parents started taking turns between missions as much as I think they could. Mom would stay for a few weeks, and then I would stay with my grandmother for a few weeks, then Dad would come back and stay for a while, and so on.

That was my life for the first three years -trying to learn Japanese, learning to walk, potty training…. Then I started toying with chakra and my grandmother noticed immediately.

My grandmother couldn’t see very well -she needed glasses to read, and even then followed the words with her fingers so that she wouldn’t lose track. She obviously strained her eyes to see things clearly. I had assumed she was just a civilian woman. Considering that she hurried to the room I was playing in the second I ‘pushed’ my chakra, she was no civilian.

“Mamoru-chan... what are you doing?”

I briefly panicked, and then turned to her with wide, innocent eyes. “Huh?”

It didn’t work.

“Mamoru, you can’t trick me,” she knelt to get as close to eye-level as she could. I never thought she could be that spry. “Do you know what that energy was?”

I shrugged, and looked away -I needed to avoid that question if at all possible.

“Mamoru-chan, that thing  -that energy- you were playing with is called chakra,” she paused waiting for me to look at her again -which I did. “It’s a useful tool, but you could hurt yourself if you practice with it unsupervised.”

I nodded, less surprised by that than by her noticing my ‘practice’. Chakra was probably like a muscle, and kids would probably hurt themselves if they overworked it.

We spent the rest of the day in the backyard. I ‘learned’ about the Leaf Concentration Practice, and actually managed to keep a leaf on my nose for the rest of the day. Within a week I could keep to leaves stuck to my temples, and a week after that I could keep a leaf on every finger -as long as I didn’t so much as think about anything else. A few days after I showed my grandmother that trick (she poked my forehead and the leaves fell pretty much instantly -I didn’t have the focus to keep it up), she went out for a few hours, and came back with a strange box.

The box was probably big enough to fit a baseball, which really wasn’t that impressive. The symbol on the back -five circles connected by three lines- looked kind of familiar, but that might have been the vaguely humanoid shape.

“Mamoru-chan, the Sarutobi clan has a lineage of prodigies in the shinobi arts,” she spoke just above a whisper. “I think you might be one of them, given time.”

I was a Sarutobi. I didn’t know the first thing about the Sarutobi clan except that their maybe-leader died. I could only nod.

She opened the box, and it was full of… paper. A cube of square papers. Wasn’t I a bit young for elemental ninjutsu? That felt a bit much for a three-year-old.

My grandmother took a piece of paper on her palm, and I… felt her chakra pulse through her arm and into her hand. The paper started to wrinkle-

No. Not wrinkle - _fold._

She kept folding the paper until it was shaped like a pinwheel.

“Now, I don't think you can do anything quite like this yet, but if you can fold the paper in half with only your chakra, I'll give you a treat. How does that sound, Mamoru-chan?”

I didn't know how to say _‘that sounds great,’_ so I stuck with “I’ll try my best.”

She frowned at that, which meant I had said the wrong thing, but she didn't reply, so I started messing with the paper.

By the end of the day I could make the paper bend -but it still wasn't folding like my grandmother's had. Either I didn't have the control to get that precise, or I wasn't using enough chakra.

Three days into my new practice, and my mother had come back. She walked in on me and Grandmother during another practice session. Mom asked Grandmother to help her with something at the entrance, and I got to practice augmenting my hearing.

“Mother, you can't just start training Mamoru without asking me. Do you want him to be enlisted at the academy at three?”

“No amount of Chakra control will get him into the academy unless we send in an application, Haruka -and besides!” Wow, my grandmother could sound smug. No wonder I liked her. “He was already manipulating his chakra before I started training him. Would you rather I let him hurt himself?”

That was a low blow, and my mother didn’t really have an answer to that. Knowing who would win, I let my chakra slip from my control, and went back to my paper. If I remembered right, hand signs looked pretty complicated. It would be smart to get the manual dexterity down before I needed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my first semi-serious attempt at fanfic! Comments and criticism are always welcome, especially for things I might have missed editing-wise.


	2. Parties, Interviews, and Awkward Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently a non-zero amount of people like my work. Thanks for the Kudos!

The first time around I had been born after computers became a household item. There had rarely been times that I didn’t have something to entertain myself with. I could just as easily do nothing as I could play a videogame or read everything connected to Mary Shelley’s life. From what I could remember reading, people were overstimulated when movies started coming out in color.

I was definitely having the opposite problem.

Toys are designed for children -no surprise there. They weren’t engaging to my adult brain. _‘Play’_ became _‘work’_ the second I realized I could pretend to be playing in the yard when I was actually trying to exercise. I couldn’t read enough Japanese to actually understand anything I wanted to learn, and my family only had so much patience, and even less time.

I kept on training just to have something to do.

It was three long, agonizing months before I managed to fold a piece of paper with nothing but chakra. The crease wasn’t as good as my grandmother’s, but it was folded, and nothing else mattered. My mother was the first person to see it -she had been staying for a long while, and kept her right shoulder wrapped up, which probably meant she’d been injured (at least she wouldn’t be fighting, I thought). She asked me to let her see me do it, and then asked again for my grandmother, and then waited another week for my father to come back so that he could see it.

The survey came in, and the emotion was ‘surprised’. Apparently I was doing better than anyone had expected. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

My ‘treat’ turned out to be more training -what I assumed would end up being the very basics of ninjutsu and taijutsu. My mother couldn’t overwork her shoulder, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t teach me how to stretch, or take me out on walks.

Real ninja must be freakishly flexible to my mother could still touch her toes while injured.

Regardless, I spent the next few months splitting my time between training, also training, ‘play’ (actually training, but secret-like), and naps. My reading level had improved to the point that I could read most of the magazines in the house, and all of the books I some of the more simple books my grandmother would read. Among those books was what I believed to be an academy textbook - _‘History of the Hidden Leaf’_. It mentioned the Second Shinobi War, but not the third. I asked my grandmother about it, and she tried to explain it to me.

Ramblings about ‘protecting your village’ and ‘fighting to bring peace’. I don’t think she believed it, but she probably hoped that I’d buy into what she was saying.

The important part I got from that talk was that my parents were ‘out on the battlefield, keeping us safe from our enemies’ -which I took to mean ‘fighting in the war’. That gave me a much stronger sense of time. I had been born within ten years of Naruto being born. That was when things would hit the fan.

* * *

 All at once, two thing happened:

The first being my birthday -I seemed to have forgotten all about it.

We had a party, but it was mostly my immediate family, a small number of branch members of some of the other clans, and -weirdly- Sarutobi Hiruzen. I supposed it made sense for the most important member of the clan to at least drop by. From what I could tell, there weren’t so many of us that it’d be a problem.

I got a fair number of gifts that I would probably never use, and a set of training kunai from a scruffy-looking Inuzuka woman (and her daughter). Not a bad haul, If I was being honest.

The second thing came shortly after. I took my first trip to the Konoha Academy.

There were a bit of paperwork, and a brief medical check up before I was sent in for an interview. Presumably, the idea was to keep kids who killed small animals for fun out of the academy, but that was just my guess. My interviewer, Hideyoshi-Sensei, looked a bit older than my parents -probably in his late twenties or early thirties, with a goatee that looked to be a bit in the works. I wasn’t sure why he was at the academy instead of on the field, but it wasn’t my place to make that call.

“So, Sarutobi…” he drew my attention back to the interview. He’d probably finished coming to conclusions about me before I could do the same. “...Mamoru, correct? Please, take a seat.”

The man was already sitting behind his desk  when I came in, and I’d gone with what I hoped was a more polite approach and waited until he said something before taking a seat. The chair was… not built for children my age. Once I was finally seated, I said “Yes, sir.”

I could see a pencil moving, even if I couldn’t see his actual workspace. He was either taking notes or filling in a form, and I couldn’t tell which. Being short sucked.

“Four years of age, date of birth….” He looked at me, so I gave him the date. He wasn’t writing that part down. Notes, then.

“I’d imagine you have something there that says my parents are ninja, right? Dad took Mom’s family name when they got married.” He was still taking notes, and I was starting to get nervous. The silence stretched too long.

“Yes, that’s all in your file -but I don’t need to know about your parents,” he stopped taking notes and finally looked at me when he spoke. “I’d like to know more about you, Mamoru-san. Tell me about yourself.”

“...I’m not sure what you want me to say. I like origami and drawing,” Hideyoshi was writing again. “I dislike… well, nothing I can think of right now. My dream for the future is to reach the same rank as my father.”

It was all so rehearsed. I’d had a week to prepare -which wasn’t as long as ‘until the first day of class’, but it was something. My father was a Chunin, and it should all come across as reasonable and maybe a bit  boring. If I’d played my cards right, I would get in and be as visible -or invisible- as I wanted.

The man was still taking notes.

“Mamoru-san… why do you want to be a shinobi?”

There was no easy answer to that question. I sighed before answering.

“There’s a war going on, and I wouldn’t feel right knowing I could help, and then choosing not to.” The closer something was to the truth, the easier it came out.

We spoke for a few more minutes. He kept taking notes, but none of his questions made me any more nervous than I already was.

Eventually he told me to go out and tell my parents to speak with him. I couldn’t hear anything from outside -even when I channeled a bit of chakra to my ears. That didn’t help my nerves. After an agonizing five minutes, the door was opened, and my parents came out looking decidedly… neutral. The told me I got in, and I turned to thank Hideyoshi-Sensei, who was standing with them.

He was missing a leg. Oh.

I paused, and while I think everyone noticed, I still said my proper ‘thankyou’ before we left.

“You’re welcome, Mamoru-san. And congratulations of your acceptance into the academy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably going to try and keep posting chapters once or twice a week. Comments and criticism are always welcome.


	3. Oddities, Apathy, and Suspicions Validated (Interlude: Various)

The admissions office was probably the most neutral room Haruka had ever seen.

Had it always been this dull? It had been, what -some sixteen years since she had been been an academy student? She couldn’t remember what the place had looked like outside of the classrooms.

“Hello, Hideyoshi-Sensei.” Haruka stood with her husband -just close enough that they could have held hands, if they wanted to. Ryuu-kun had always stood that close when he was nervous. It was one of the things she’d come to love about him.

Hideyoshi-Sensei was taking notes -she could vaguely remember that he did that a lot, back when he’d been an active Chunin.

“Please, have a seat. We have a lot to discuss.” That… didn’t sound good. The feeling of privacy seals going up made it sound even worse. “I’m glad you were both able to spend time to come in with your son today. With the war effort, many parents don’t have that opportunity.”

Haruka had called in several favorites to get Ryuu-kun a month off -not that he would tell anyone but her husband that, and she was on leave after a nasty case of chakra exhaustion. “We were lucky enough to get a four weeks off. We don’t always get to be around Mamoru-kun, but we try to be there for the important parts.”

The admissions officer was still taking notes. “Haruka-san, Ryuunosuke-san… I have some questions about your son’s development. Do you know when he started to talk?

Ryuu-kun had been there for that, so he could answer. “Mamoru started talking at around eight months -but Haruka’s mother claims he seemed to be trying for much longer than that.”

“Your son’s speech patterns suggested as much. Most children his age either lack the vocabulary or ramble. Is there anything else you think is noteworthy about his growth.”

Haruka had a list of things she thought might be relevant, but chose to keep things short. “Mamoru-kun… has always been quiet. He’s not necessarily an introvert, but he doesn’t talk much unless he’s nervous.”

Unless he was very nervous, and then he would clam up entirely.

“He’s also shown a predisposition to chakra usage. My mother found Mamoru-kun trying to manipulate his chakra some… six or seven months ago. She decided to start training him,” Without either of his parents’ permission, she didn’t say. “And since then, he’s functionally mastered the leaf exercise, and is working on an advanced Sarutobi control exercise.”

The note-taking stopped.

“...Haruka-san, how exactly did your son ‘master’ the leaf exercise?” That was a fair question, if Haruka was completely honest. It was a focus thing, and not really about potency or reserves or control. There wasn’t really a way to master focus.

Ryuu-kun coughed before answering. “Mamoru showed me a… trick that he can do. He can hold fourteen separate leaves -forehead, both temples, nose, and all five fingers- simultaneously.” Her husband tried to hide a chuckle. “He’s trying to figure out how to make them spin -but apparently not in the same direction. Having all the leaves spin clockwise ‘defeats the purpose’, I think he said.”

The note-taking was back with a vengeance. “And you said your son has been practicing for… six months or so, correct? Officially, the Hidden Leaf Shinobi Academy isn’t allowed to teach advanced chakra control exercises -so we really can’t instruct him much further….”

Haruka got the hint. “Unofficially, all parents are allowed to train their children however they think is best outside of school hours.”

Hideyoshi-Sensei smiled, but Ryuu-kun didn’t -her husband was probably working out the kind of schedule that would need to be set up in their absence. Her mother didn’t have it in her any more to manage tree-walking, but she could certainly supervise. They could probably get one of the Genin in the clan to help out for a day -it wasn’t like Mamoru-kun would need more than a day of direct teaching, considering his track record.

“I can't really say for certain after only speaking to your son once, but I’ve seen a handful of students with similar psychological profiles to what I’m expecting of Mamoru. I think he’ll make a fine addition to the upcoming class.”

* * *

 

“Are we gonna talk about what that Sarutobi kid nearly did to his classmate?”

Hideki really didn’t want to talk about it. It was weird, but nothing had actually happened. He’d learned not to question what Sarutobi Mamoru did by the end of the first month teaching the boy. Life was easier that way, and if nobody was hurt -which they never were- it didn’t have to be his problem.

“Isamu -there’s nothing _to_ talk about. The kid’s weird, and -shocker- he did something weird. It’s a non-issue.”

Isamu was in charge of taijutsu classes. He wasn’t as used to the kid. Hideki had seen the kid spinning leaves an inch from his face, and then being disappointed because the all spun the same way. Nothing could surprise him any more.

“Well considering he almost gouged an _Uchiha’s_ eye out during a taijutsu match, I think we have a reason to be alarmed.”

The older Chunin groaned -loudly. “Look, if you think it’s a big deal that the kid fights like a civilian, you can go tell Hideyoshi about it. Meanwhile, I’m going to keep reading my book.”

“But that’s my entire point! The kid freaked out on the mat, and started fighting like a _trained_ civilian. His parents wouldn’t teach him that -I know they're both shinobi. There’s no way he’d master civilian self-defense without taking a class, and that would be in his file. And why did it only happen when he started panicking?”

Hideki put down his book. “Okay, you’re not getting it. The. Sarutobi. Brat. Is. Just. Wierd.” he clapped after every word. Hopefully, if he said it enough times, Isamu would get it. “Don’t bother questioning it. Some kids are just weird. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can live a peaceful life.”

“ _Sage_ , Hideki, you’re useless.” Isamu stormed off. Maybe he should go easier on the kid -it was his first year on the job.

He wouldn’t, but it was a nice thought.

* * *

 

Isamu followed the Sarutobi boy home. It technically wasn’t illegal -he was an instructor, and he was allowed to take a vested interest in his student’s lives. The Hyuga might kill him if he pulled this shit, but the Sarutobi wouldn’t.

His mark (it felt gross to refer to a child like that) opened the door, and was inside for… fifteen minutes or so, before coming back out in a ratty shirt, some shorts, and… compression clothing? They made that stuff for kids?

He didn’t have much time to think about it, because the kid took off jogging in off toward the Sarutobi training grounds. Isamu was pretty sure every clan had a couple, but the Sarutobi took better care of theirs than most. No Katon in the forested areas, nothing that either the person training or their instructor couldn’t fix. It was more than what could be said for the Uchiha, most of the time.

The boy jogged for some forty minutes -passing several training grounds on his way. Briefly the Chunin thought he might only be going for a run, but then the boy stopped at one of the farthest training areas the Sarutobi had.

What he saw next was more surprising than the incident at the academy.

Sarutobi Mamoru… started climbing a tree. Slowly at first, and once he’d adjusted to the new balance, he started going through his katas. Objectively, it was a solid training regimen for Genin. It would be smart to get younger shinobi used to fighting on non-horizontal surfaces. Why was an academy student training that way -unsupervised, to top it all off.

What was this kid’s _deal_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weekly posting should be a thing! I'm not quite as sure on this chapter as I was on the last two -but it feels important to point out that Mamoru isn't as good at keeping secrets as he thinks he is.


	4. Peace Offerings, Forgiveness, and Friendship

The day after the close call with the Uchiha kid, I was sent to the Hideyoshi-Sensei’s office.

I could see the reasoning. I’d almost seriously hurt a member of a major clan. The Uchiha needed their eyes. I could have ruined the boy’s career. If anything would make the clan as a whole more isolated, it would be having their children seriously maimed during class.

It took me the two-minute walk from my classroom to the office to figure that much out. Isamu-Sensei was there, but no sign of any Uchiha. Things must have been kept quiet then.

I sat down and waited for about a minute while Hideyoshi-Sensei shuffled papers around on his desk. Unsurprisingly, I snapped first.

“I’m sorry about what happened during the spar yesterday. I really wasn’t trying to hurt him like that, I swear! He just… caught me off guard, and I… panicked.”

Isamu-Sensei let me finish before talking. “Mamoru-san, I appreciate that you're sorry -and we definitely need to talk about what happened there, but that’s not everything.” He looked towards his superior.

“According to my files and your mother’s claims, you’ve never taken any self-defense training before. Is that correct?” I nodded, and he continued. “You’ve also never formally trained in taijutsu before, right?”

Another nod. “I learned how to stretch correctly before coming to the academy, but no taijutsu training.”

“Mamoru-san, this begs the question… where did you learn a civilian self-defense technique?”

I couldn’t answer that question. Well, technically I could, but ‘I’m actually a reincarnated twenty-two-year-old who took self-defense classes, and have been posing as a normal child for four years’ wouldn’t go too well. Instead, I followed the footsteps of many great politicians, compromised my moral integrity, and gave an answer that wasn’t accurate. By which I mean entirely false.

“My grandmother told me that one of the best ways to stop someone was by going for the eye.” She hadn’t, but she probably would’ve if I asked. She was cool like that.

“Ah. Yes, you live with your grandmother…. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you ask her to drop by sometime soon? Not necessarily tomorrow, but I’ll have a courier go over and arrange the details with her personally.” Which meant that I couldn’t get away with delaying things by just not telling her.

“I’ll let her know when I get back from school. She might come tomorrow no matter what.

But, just to be clear: am I going to be in trouble?”

Isamu-Sensei spoke this time. “No, Mamoru-san, you’re not getting in trouble.” Well, that was surprisingly easy. “Although… you could use some training to stop those sorts of accidents. If you’d like, I could help you with that after school.”

Personal training from a Chunin who specialized in the field? Apparently everything was going my way. “I’d appreciate it. Thankyou, Isamu-Sensei.”

* * *

 

“Isamu-san, there isn’t anything we can officially do about the discrepancies right now.” Isamu really hated that. He understood that is was a war, but they should be better equipped to handle this sort of thing.

“I understand, Sir.”

He’d come in early just to present his concerns, and none of it would matter. “Is there any way you would allow me to keep a closer eye on his progress? It would let us keep a closer eye on his… quirks.”

“If his skill with taijutsu was below the academy’s expectations, you could certainly request that he stay behind after class for remedial training. Since it isn’t, we can’t force the issue.”

Was there anything the academy actually could do? Isamu didn’t say.

“That said, you could offer him extra training. It would be on your own time, of course, but that is entirely between you, him, and his primary care providers.” So Isamu would need to talk to the parents, then. If he could get Mamoru on board first… they might be more willing.

“Could you have him brought here? If we frame this right, he should be interested.”

* * *

 

I waited until lunch before approaching Takeo. It wasn’t about nerves or shyness or anything stupid like that. I just didn’t want to risk a scene, and Takeo ate alone.

I actually got to think a fair bit about the Uchiha clan while we were in class. They were all going to die for apparently justifiable reasons that I didn’t fully understand. The war wasn’t over, so I had a good few years to think of something to stop the singular event that defined most of the plot as I knew it. From that point on everything I knew was probably going to be useless.

Leaving them all to die wasn't an option. I wasn’t a monster. I couldn’t let hundreds of people (a not-insignificant number of which were too young to have ever done anything wrong, let alone anything worth being killed for) die without making an effort to change things.

The Uchiha were killed for wanting to rebel. The Uchiha wanted to rebel because they felt segregated by the community. I could try to fix the latter, and the first step to building the bridge was Takeo.

“Eh… Takeo-san.” It was kind of surprising how identical all the Uchiha I’d seen were. I hadn’t seen very many Hyuga yet, but I’d imagine it was the same for them too.

Same black eyes. Extremely similar dark hair. The only thing that made Takeo any different from the older Uchiha kids I saw was how curly his hair was. I was almost like mine from the first time around.

Somebody get this child a comb.

“Yeah? You’re Mamoru, right?” I nodded. We’d been in the same class for six weeks now. It’d suck if he didn’t even know my name.

We sort of… stared at each other for a few moments. I hadn’t thought this all the way through.

“Did you want something?” Dragged back into reality, I gathered myself and bowed.

“ I wanted to apologize for the…” once I was back up to my (insignificant) full height, I started scratching at my face. “Accident, from yesterday.”

“It’s fine. Besides, if I was really upset about it, I would have kicked your butt after class.” He winked at me. I assumed he was joking, then. I tried to laugh, but it was just awkward.

We stood there in silence for a long time. Takeo leaning back against the wall, and me sort of just… there. I’d never been good at ending conversations. Suddenly it seemed like a very important skill to have.

“Mamoru, you’re really weird. You know that, right?”

Well, of course I knew that. But that could mean a lot of different things. “What do you mean?”

“You’re doing amazing in pretty much every class. Yeah, your taijutsu sucks, but so does everyone else’s. You have no friends, and you don’t talk to anyone. You’re really, really weird.”

“My taijutsu doesn’t suck, and I do so talk to pe-”

“You talk to teachers, Mamoru, and only to ask or answer questions. This is the longest anyone has ever seen you speak.”

“...Okay, so I don’t talk to people.” The kid made some good points. “To review: I’m weird, friendless, and don’t talk to anyone. I don’t talk to anyone because I don’t have friends. Is that about right?”

“Pretty much, yeah. I don’t know about that last part, but sure.”

“...Do you want to be friends.”

That actually caught Takeo by surprise, I thought. “I- what?” Apparently he thought it was funny, seeing as he was laughing a bit. I decided to cut my losses and just walk away.

Of course it didn’t work. I had no idea how to talk to kids, and I was just going to be the same friendless nobody I’d been the first time around. Why did I put that out there? It was so stupid-

“Sure, Mamoru.”

“...What?”

“You’re weird, but I think it’s funny. We can be friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wrote this at the beginning of December, and then got lazy about posting outside of SpaceBattles. I'll post chapter 5 in a week or two, and that'' be the end of any backlog I may have.


	5. Training, Lunch, and More Training

“Mamoru-san, it might be best to start with showing me what you know.”

 

Isamu-sensei had made his offer last week. Honestly, it was surprising it took this long to actually start. I was sure my grandmother would got the day after I told her, but she’d apparently fallen under the weather, and had to wait before she could really go to the academy for a meeting.

 

I just hoped she wasn’t getting getting really sick.

 

“Yes, Sensei.” I went into the basic academy stance (not perfect by any means, but decent for a month of practice) and didn’t even make it into the first form before he started making some relatively minor corrections.

 

“Widen your stance a bit, Mamoru-san, and keep your body lower. The academy style puts a heavier emphasis on grapples, pins, and throws than most. Balance will be key during spars.”

 

I did my best to follow the corrections, and Isamu-sensei nodded, so I couldn’t be doing too badly. His approval wasn’t going to define my outlook on life (thank christ for supportive parental figures this time around), but every bit of praise still felt good. It felt nice to not be the ostracized protagonist desperate for the attention of others. Once I made it through the set, Isamu-sensei seemed thoughtful. I started going through the forms again.

 

“There’s not much I can help you with without a more direct approach…. If you’re up to the challenge, we could spar, I suppose.”

 

“You’re a Chunin, Isamu-sensei. There’s no way I’d win.” Even while I said that, I turned to him -in the best starting form I could muster. Judging by the smirk, he must have thought it was amusing. Good to know that I was entertaining, at least.

 

“It’s still worth a try, isn’t it? Granted,” Isamu-sensei talked with his entire body way too often. No way in hell I wouldn’t take advantage. “The academy style is designed for fighting people around the same size, but-”

 

The chunin had only just dodged the attempted wheel kick. I wasn’t sure I liked the smile on his face.

 

“Mamoru, I was still talking. You’re not fighting fair.”

 

“Sensei,” Three right jabs, left hook. It was all about testing the waters. “We’re ninja. There is no fighting fair.”

 

Palm-strike to the stomach. Uppercut to the chin. I’d expected Isamu-sensei to be… faster than this, and I still wasn’t landing any blows. I should already be down. He hadn’t even tried to hit me yet. Was he trying to goad me into making a mistake? I disengaged.

 

“You were doing so well! We can’t just end there.” That was a good attempt, but my mind was more focused on the fire in my gut.

 

Back in my early teens, I’d been pretty big on occult stuff. Aura, chakras, karma—pretty much a combination of every ‘weird’ set of spiritual beliefs I could find through the internet. The only one I’d ever put effort into had been aura. ‘Feel it course from the center of your body into your hands,’ or whatever nonsense I’d read online said. Chakra felt like what I imagine aura would be like.

 

I could feel the (still odd, no matter how much I tried to get used to it) vibration of energy coursing right under my skin. Then it was just a matter of pulling it into my arms and legs, and leaving it a bit ‘looser’ than I would if I was channelling my ears.

 

‘Once more, with feeling!’ I didn’t say.

 

That ‘feeling’ turned out to be more than I think he expected. Chakra was just so liberating. Roundhouse kick. Right jab, left hook, uppercut. He was still dodging every hit, but at least we were moving faster. Flying knee, knife hand—

 

Isamu-sensei had me by the wrist….

 

“You’ve figured out chakra-enhancement.” It wasn’t a question.

 

“Can I have my hand back. I’m going to need it later.” That was enough to convince him to let go. “Anyways, yeah. It’s not that hard, but I need a second to make it work.”

 

The Chunin sighed. “So long as you’re not using it to fight your classmates, it’s fine. How did you figure it out?”

 

By being pretty sure it was how Rock Lee was so strong.

 

“Guesswork. You need to move chakra through your body to do stuff with leaves, so I just stopped between gathering chakra and sticking it to a leaf.” Oversimplified to all hell, but it wasn’t that bad of an explanation, even if it was a lie. Isamu-sensei wasn’t frowning, so I must have not said anything outright wrong.

 

“...I get the sudden feeling that you just make stuff up, and then work your way backwards into something that works.”

 

“Pretty much, yeah,” I lied, looking very proud of myself for the occasion. “So, should we keep going?”

* * *

 

Pretending to be a real boy was a whole lot of work, and I didn’t have as much time for that as I did for actually getting stronger. Most of my classmates were civilians, and even if they couldn’t explain it very well, they knew something was off. Of the, like, four other kids from shinobi clans, I only spoke to half of them: 

 

Takeo, who had no filter; and Yamanaka Kaoru, who was even worse.

 

“You can’t hide the truth from me, Sarutobi—if that’s even your real family name!” It was only five minutes into lunch time, and there was no chance of me enjoying my meal any time soon.

 

“Kaoru-san, can I at least finish my lunch before we do this?”

 

“Don’t try to change the subject!” Maybe I’d gotten the wrong impression from the show, but weren’t the Yamanaka less Naruto-y? “I know what’s really going on.”

 

“And that would be… that I’m actually just an academy student who wants to have lunch?”

 

“No! You’re a…-”

 

“Didn’t actually come up with anything, did you?”

 

“Shut up, Mamoru—I’ve got this. You’re… a monkey summon pretending to be a human boy! All of the monkeys train their warriors by having them pose as human ninja.”

 

Oh. Wow, that was something. Might as well go with it.

 

“...Never thought it’d happen, but you got me, Yamanaka-dono. Clearly, you have bested the monkey clan, and myself personally.” He looked so triumphant. It felt good to play along with whatever weird nonsense the actual kids came up with. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have lunch to eat.”

 

It was even better to see the look on his face when I jumped into a tree and opened my lunchbag.

 

“What are you two losers doing?” And now Takeo was interrupting. I hadn’t even gotten a bite out of my weird omelette-thing. Was I not allowed to know peace?

 

“Not eating my lunch, apparently. I didn’t even have breakfast today… can you both cut me some slack?”

 

“Maybe. What’s the big reveal this time?”

 

“Mamoru is secretly a monkey summon posing as a human child.”

 

“...It’s better than the robot theory you had last time. But yeah, we should probably eat.”

 

Unlearning the terrible eating habits I’d had in my first life was one of the many perks of my second try, I decided. Any food was good food if you hadn’t eaten all day.

 

Eventually, we were all done with lunch, so I decided made my next big move.

 

“So, would either of you want to hang out after school some time? Isamu-sensei told me I need to fight someone about my size if I want to improve.”

 

That got me several seconds of stares, and it was Kaoru who broke first.

 

“You know, I thought the robot thing was a joke, but you seriously don’t do anything but train.”

 

“I do to! I… read… books….”

 

“Are the books you read different from the books the academy assigns us to read? Are they not at all related to training?”

 

“...Shut up Uchiha.” Stupid Takeo and his stupid valid points. He was even laughing again, just to throw salt in the wound.

 

“Mamoru, how about if, instead of us going to train with you… you come hang out with us and be normal for a day.”

 

“Only if you both come help me with my taijutsu training for a day.”

 

“Deal. Takeo?”

 

“It’ll give me something to do. Why not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the last chapter written so far! I might come back to this in a month or two.


	6. Genetics, Family, and Trust (Interlude: Sarutobi Nene)

Sarutobi Nene had lived a long, fruitful life. She’d been a kunoichi of Konohagakure when the concept of a ‘hidden village’ had yet to be fully realized, she’d been a founding member of the Intelligence Division, a single mother, and a loving grandmother. Very few women who lived in such exciting times lived such full lives. While she would never say she had no regrets, she was at peace with most of them.

Oddly enough, it sometimes felt like Mamoru, her grandson and possibly her favorite human being, was at the center of many of those regrets.

He as intelligent, and driven, and simply talented in ways she’d never seen in other children. At first, Nene had attributed it to his father’s genetics. Considering his status, the boy was also quite skilled, and perhaps had come from some foreign clan—with all the implications that brought. Sadly, it couldn’t hold its ground (which was ironic, considering Ryuunosuke’s parentage as far as her contacts could follow it), as her son-in-law was intelligent, yes, but mostly he was dedicated. Dedicated adults with no exceptional genes did not have preternaturally gifted babies.

That left the boy’s grandfather as the most likely source. Nene remembered the man with more fondness than was due. Handsome and charming, and yet so shy at the thought of touch. The look of betrayal when she stabbed him after his offer to bring her along. As if she loved a foreign spy more than she had loved her village. She didn't regret her choice. No, she was just… softer in her old age. Soft and frail. To the point where she couldn’t even bring her grandson in to be seen by a Yamanaka.

“Obaa-san! Me, Takeo, and Kaoru are going out!”

“Be back before sundown!”

Mamoru was just so _charming_. Only six and already so congenial.

Yoritomo had been, as far as they had ever gathered, both a prodigy on that scale and a member of a clan of similar nature to the Sarutobi. While they’d never officially pinned his origin to another village, his clan was obviously from Hidden Mist. Haruka had never developed a functional affinity towards water until she was well on her way to specializing in Ninjutsu. When everyone else noticed the truth Nene was finally left alone. Obviously, they would never have access to to her lover’s bloodline. She’d bought it too, but Mamoru made her uncertain of that fact.

This could be a second chance for the village to get a new bloodline. Mamoru would be loved and scorned in equal measure, and held higher than most of his peers.

No. Sarutobi Nene wouldn’t do that to her grandson. So long as he never showed such leanings, she would pretend that nothing was wrong.

Family did not throw family to the wolves, after all.

* * *

 “Mamoru-kun, how would you like to start on a new technique?”

Mamoru very rarely stopped training. It was taijutsu with one of the academy instructors or his classmates twice a week, and control at almost every opportunity, and history or science on slower days. Fortunately, Nene had found him playing in the dirt, a singly leaf spinning in front of the boy's face. She sincerely wished it was shocking, but that had been long ago.

The look on his face told her everything she needed to know. Hook, line, sinker.

“Oh! Of course, Baachan.” Why would he be surprised to see her—they both lived in the same house.

Nene pulled out two pieces of paper from the the small stack. The pages had turned yellow since she’d last had use for them, but they were still perfectly functional. Besides, there wasn’t a single place that sold in less than a stack of twenty, and litmus paper was expensive.

Her bones began to vibrate ever so softly as chakra directed itself into Nene’s index and middle fingers. The end of the paper started to burn, and after a second she shook it out. Perhaps, with a bit more effort, she could pull for another effect, but her point must have come across if the dinner plates that had replaced Mamoru’s eyes were any indication.

“I’ve been meaning to check for some time, so today we’ll be testing for your chakra affinity. The effect is usually very intuitive, quite a few like what happened with my test. Just push chakra through and we can really get started. She held the sheet out to him.

Paper in hand, he pulled back to avoid burning his grandmother, and the paper almost immediately crumbled into chunks about the size of a rather small coin. He was probably underselling the amount of chakra he ought to use, but that was hardly surprising when he was practicing control at the same time.

If any give pieces were damp, well, it was her mind playing tricks on her.

“An earth affinity, like your father. I was never all that gifted with earth, so I’ll need to ask for advice. Maybe we can practice later this week?”

“Definitely! Maybe Dad can help too once he gets back.” He was always so excited to learn new things. If only Haruka had been so driven at that age.

“Well, I’ll leave you to play outside. Lunch will be ready in an hour.” She said, before heading back into the house.

“I’m not playing, but thanks.”

_Ah, kids._

* * *

Mamoru went back to running his fingers through the dirt, making grooves spiral away from the line.. Really, if he had an predisposition to messing with earth and this was all he could do, something was clearly wrong.

Maybe this was the wrong way to go about practicing. The library at the academy didn’t have a lot of practical knowledge on using chakra beyond the most basic forms, but that training he’d been promised might be an excellent starting point.

How old would Mamoru have to be to get away with more than one affinity?

_Eh, I’ll work on that later. Back to ‘playing in the dirt’. Honestly, I’m six—why would I ever do something like this without a goal._


	7. Politics, Perks, Prescience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than the other chapters, but at least it exists.

"You are within the realm of my divination"

"Mamoru, you do know you're not a Hyuga, right? This blind-fighting is a lot, even for you."

Honestly, it really was, but I was sure that I could get to the level of skill required to not look at an Uchiha while fighting them. Whether I'd need that skill was up for debate, but I'd rather start practicing early.

"Shut up and fight me, Uchiha," I said, sprinting in my friend's direction.

It was a nice day out, and we were actually sparring on Uchiha ground—because some cousin of mine had decided to use my spot. There was a gentle stream on one side, and the dirt road spanning all of the arena-sized training grounds they had. It was really pretty if anyone bothered to look at it, once you got past the scorch marks on the trees.

I hear footsteps to my left, very quickly turning with a jab. My hand met air.

Dropping into a sweeping kick sent Takeo back out of range by some three meters. I'd yet to land a hit, but my sense of direction was getting really good. I'd stopped running past him a while ago.

"Come on Takeo! Show the weird monkey who's boss!" Maybe I'd do better if Kaoru wasn't goading me from a rock somewhere to my left.

"Do you mind?" Takeo and I said at about the same time.

In moments I heard his battle cry from somewhere above me. I hadn't even felt him move that time, but it was enough to roll further back. The ground had a lot of give below my right foot. I had to be right next to the stream, then.

My rival was back on the offensive, and I couldn't reliably get past him, so I went with the only logical option. With a hop backward I was doing my damnedest to not fall into the water.

"You can't keep that up, forever, Sarutobi." Takeo shouted from dry land. "and I have a plan just for the occasion!"

There were two rushes of air to my right, and when a third clipped my shirt I started running the other way. I could maybe avoid getting demolished in melee, but there was nothing I could do it Takeo started throwing rocks. It wasn't looking good.

"So did you two hear about the Hokage inauguration?"

What?

"Wha—" I immediately sank into the knee-deep water, landing on my ass. While trees were child's play, water's variable chakra needs meant always focussing on staying afloat. Kaoru was such a cheater.

"Yes! I knew you'd get distracted. I win the spar!"

That snot-nosed punk of a Yamanaka would get it later, but for the moment he'd been spot on. I could've sworn I still had more time until the Kyuubi attack. Maybe not enough to reach Chunin, but more than two years. When would Naruto even be born, anyways?

I refocused on the world around to find Takeo standing over me, arm outstretched.

"Maybe you shouldn’t try water-walking, and fighting with your eyes closed, and paying attention to Kaoru at the same time. That can't be good for your health."

Kaoru himself was at the riverbank.

"He's got a point, but I still win the spar."

I found myself laughing at what was probably the closest I'd ever get to seeing myself at age eight right in front of me.

"Definitely! I'll make you a first place ribbon sometime."

"Why don't I ever get a ribbon for winning spars? I thought I was your best friend."

"Not on your life."

The fucker dropped me. 

* * *

 

Still soaked, the three of us sat down on a bench in the Uchiha district. My after-training snack of a single energy bar and some juice wasn't really appetizing, but I still scarfed it down while my friends talked shop about what they'de be doing after the ceremony.

"You'd think I was the one getting the title by how much my parents care about my outfit." Takeo ugly-laughed before continuing. "Like I'd be the Uchiha to become Hokage."

"I mean, why couldn't you be Hokage? It's not like there's a rule against it."

That got me a look from both of my friends.

"But that's the thing, isn't it?" Kaoru said as if it was a combination of obvious and frustrating. "There's never been a high-ranking shinobi who wasn't a member of their clan's main branch. All three Hokage would have been clan heads if they hadn't taken the job. The top Yamanaka in the Intelligence department is Inoichi-sama, and Uchiha head runs the military police."

Takeo continued the thought. "If there's a single Uchiha who could do it, I'd say it's Fugaku-dono. Maybe Itachi, but I'm not all that confident in a toddler just yet."

"You two make it sound depressing. Can we go back to beating each other up?"

Kaoru sighed, before turning back to me. "It's just kind of frustrating, y'know? My parents won't admit it, but we all know I'll be lucky to make Jonin some day. For all that the civilian kids like to act like we lucked out, we get the short end of the stick from both directions."

"Well, it's not like the civilian kids have an easy time either. You'd sooner see a branch Hyuuga than a civilian kid with the hat on."

Was I ever going to get another opportunity like this?

"Speaking of, who  do you think is going to get the title?"

That got a shrug from Kaoru, while Takeo looked towards the sky, his right hand scratching at his chin. "Probably Fugaku, I'd bet. Either him or one of the Sanin—I heard that Sarutobi has big expectations for some of his students."

I let myself smile slyly. "Well, you never know. A civilian might just surprise you one of these days."

"Mamoru, you're scaring me."


End file.
